


Because he was a good friend

by arturowrites



Series: Dreambur One-Shots [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Crying, Dream is a good friend, Dream stays awake really late, Dreambur, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, How Do I Tag, I Tried, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Prompt Fic, Sad Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, patches - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27697991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arturowrites/pseuds/arturowrites
Summary: A drunk Wilbur appears at Dream's apartment.He may have some secrets to tell Dream.Patches is there.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Wilbur Soot
Series: Dreambur One-Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2014135
Comments: 19
Kudos: 216





	Because he was a good friend

**Author's Note:**

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A knock on his door startled him. Dream checked the clock in the living room from his comfortable position on the couch. 

_ 2:17 a.m. _

“What the fuck?” He muttered under his breath. It was too late for whoever it was to be outside Dream’s apartment. He had the temptation to ignore the knock and just keep watching his movie, and that’s what he did. For five minutes he paid attention to Tony Stark and Thanos fight against each other. However, his voice is what made him get up immediately and run to the door.

“Dream!” What Wilbur could possibly want this late in the night? It was raining, no, not raining. There was a fucking storm out there. The lightning shone through the curtains and painted the living room white. Unfortunately, Patches, Dream’s cat didn’t like the thunder that came after. Right now, she was hiding under Dream’s blanket and was snuggled against his lap.

Dream set down Patches carefully, making sure that the blanket still covered the cat, and went to answer the door. There he was, Wilbur Soot, soaked wet to every inch of his body.

At the man’s sight, a sudden rage filled Dream.

How  _ dare  _ he appear so suddenly in the middle of the night? If it were the first time, Dream wouldn’t mind at all to help the tall man. Sadly, this was the fifth time that month in which Wilbur had appeared that late at his door.

“Are you drunk again?” The sloppy smile that Wilbur gave him was enough of an answer for Dream. Just like the last four times, he didn’t know what to do anymore. He tried to help Wilbur in any way he could, but apparently, the brunette just needed his company every time he was in that state. And Dream—as the good friend he was— always offered to stay with him. The problem was that as time passed, Wilbur got worse. At first, Wilbur just arrived a little tipsy, laughing at everything. Then, Wilbur just started talking nonsense, forgetting stuff the next day and Dream feared that just like the last time, he had to clean up if Wilbur vomited. Luckily when Wilbur threw up he only did it on himself, so Dream didn’t have to clean anything of his home, but Wilbur. Dream took off the brunette’s clothes and threw them in the washing machine, then he had to bathe Wilbur to remove the nauseating smell. When Dream asked the next day, Wilbur said that he didn’t remember anything at all.

With a sigh, Dream moved to the side to let Wilbur enter his apartment. Dream realized a little too late the consequences that would bring him. Wilbur left a wet trail across the floor as he made his way to the couch in the living room. 

_ I give up.  _ He would clean everything in the morning because Dream was a good friend.

He closed the door and went to help Wilbur. When he arrived he noticed that the brunette already took off his coat and other heavy clothing laying them on the floor.

At least this time the couch would survive.

Dream knew Wilbur too well because Dream was a good friend. He knew every gesture of Wilbur and what it could possibly mean. The previous experiences taught Dream Wilbur’s drunkenness scale. As he got close to the other man, he immediately knew something was wrong.

Wilbur’s eyes. Every day they looked like coffee, almost black eyes that turned a sweet honey color as the sun hit them. Almost everything around those irises was red. Red, because of the veins that stood out. And if Dream had looked under those eyes, he could see dark-puffy circles.

His hands. Wilbur always had that confident stride that Dream admired deeply. When Wilbur said or did something, his hands were steady as a rock. That was why he was such a good leader. His hands were fidgeting.  _ He  _ was fidgeting. Nervousness? Fear? Drunkenness? He didn't know.

His clothes. It was common knowledge that, in the group, Wilbur had the most fashion sense. He could wear simple jeans and a white shirt and somehow, he made it work. His looks helped him, that’s true, but Wilbur— no matter what— always was well-dressed. With his hair combed even though it was hard as fuck to try to tame the hair. Right now, Wilbur looked horrible, and it wasn’t because of the alcohol or even because of the rain. It seemed as if Wilbur just grabbed the first thing he saw and put it on.

“Dream?” Wilbur was running his hand through Patches’ mane, the cat purring in satisfaction.

“What?” The tone was harsh, he knew it, and his suspects just were confirmed when Wilbur flinched at the venom in his voice. “What now?” Dream asked a little bit gentler.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” The slurred words reminded Dream that even if Wilbur wasn’t as bad as the last time, he still was drunk. “I fucked everything up.”

Now Dream was confused.

“What are you talking about?” He asked.

“Gosh, you must hate me-”   
“I don’t.”

“I’ve been a horrible person-”

“No, you haven’t”

“And you have been nothing, but supportive-”

Because Dream is a good friend.

“I don’t deserve it-”

“Hey!” Wilbur looked at Dream, who was watching him with a little smile and soft eyes. “It’s okay. I forgive you.” In case Wilbur had any more doubts Dream hugged him.

He forgave him because Dream was a good friend.

He didn’t care that he was getting wet because Dream was a good friend.

He would help Wilbur with anything he needed.

Because Dream was a good friend.

\----------

After Wilbur calmed down Dream seated at his side and immediately the taller man rested his head on the blonde’s shoulder.

Together they watched the rest of the movie.

Patches went to the kitchen and stayed there.

The storm was over.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Wil”

“Not like that.” Red flags appeared in Dream’s head as he moved away from Wilbur to look at him, but the other kept his gaze glued to his hands resting on the blanket.

“What the fuck are you saying, Wilbur?” He was getting scared.

“I love you more than as a friend.” Silence. “I would love to hug you anytime in public without our friends telling us that that’s weird. I would love to kiss you. I would love to call you my boyfriend and most importantly, I would love for you to love me.”

The rage returned. Tears pricked Dream’s eyes.

“Get out.”

“What?” Panic rose in Wilbur’s voice.

“I said get the fuck out of here!” It was getting hard for Dream to speak, he needed air, but he wouldn’t do anything in front of Wilbur. Not anymore.

“But-”

“You came into my apartment,  _ my home _ , half-drunk in the middle of the night to tell me this? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Silence. Dream looked up and almost regretted everything. Somehow Wilbur looked even worse. Silent tears coming from his, running through his face. His expression broke Dream’s heart; he looked completely destroyed. Without saying another word Wilbur picked his stuff and got out of the apartment as soon as possible. 

Once Dream heard the door shut he broke down. Heavy sobs escaped his lips and only two thoughts ran through his mind.

_ ‘I am a good friend.’ _

_ ‘I have to tell George.’ _

_ ‘I am a good friend.’ _

_ ‘I have to tell George.” _

The last statement made Dream whip his head up and looked at the door where Wilbur left. He needed to tell George. His friend, his lover, his boyfriend. He needed to tell George how Dream’s best friend confessed his love for him, knowing that Dream was in a relationship with George. They were great, they loved each other, and that they’d probably stay together for a long time. He needed to tell him.

But how he could tell George the events of that night?


End file.
